


Barbie and Ken

by thranduils1



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bar, F/M, Fluff, Power Couple, Protective Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 15:20:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15488823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thranduils1/pseuds/thranduils1
Summary: Dean and the reader dealing with an asshole at a bar.





	Barbie and Ken

**Author's Note:**

> Moving my fics over from Tumblr. I tried not to touch it too much besides phrasing and grammatical mistakes. Original posted 10/25/16.

“I’m not looking for any fun tonight,” you told the guy who had been hitting on you for the last ten minutes relentlessly. He was not getting the message in the slightest. His hand had snaked around your wrist and you had tensed at the sensation. This was not going to end well.

You and Dean had come to this bar on your own, Sam sleeping back at the motel a couple of blocks down. You were in a slightly larger town than normal, meaning there were more bars available, but it didn’t mean the place wasn’t littered with locals.

And this particular local was coming onto you in the worst way and there was no one around who seemed to care.

The man simpered at you and leaned in. “Well, I am, honey.”

God, you wanted to dig your nails into his eyes.

“That’s cool. Sorry we aren’t on the same page.”

He pushed himself closer to you. Where was Dean? He had only gone to the bathroom.

“C'mon, sweetie. You don’t seem to into the guy you are with. What’s wrong with trying out something you might like?”

“Because the thing that I like is on a trip.”

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“Like I said. I’m not interested.”

“You’re really good at playing hard to get.”

“Hey, she said back off,” Dean’s voice came from beside you. You looked at him, your relief more than likely etched on your face.

The guy’s attention turned to Dean who was glowering at him, his shoulders back, staring the guy down. Dean had a special way of looking like a guy that would beat your skull against the cement in a second.

“Fuck off, Ken,” the guy spat at Dean. Dean rose his eyebrows, realizing yet again that someone was referring to him as a Ken doll. If you were in a different situation, you would have laughed. The guy’s grip on your wrist did not loosen. “Barbie is mine for the night.”

Was this guy serious?

“Like hell!” you snapped at him, trying to yank your arm away.

The guy looked at you, his jaw set. “You don’t get to play hard to get and then back out just because your wannabe boyfriend came back.”

“Who said I was a wannabe? Maybe I’ve been hitting that for over a year.”

The guy’s attention was on Dean again. He was distracted. You reached for your pocket knife in your back pocket.

It was on his throat in a second. He looked completely taken aback, and people around you had noticed what was going on. You didn’t care.

Leaning in, you said in a low, dangerous voice, “I would suggest letting go of me before you have a Cheshire grin sized cut on your throat.”

The guy’s eyes were murderous, staring down at you. You felt his grip loosen on your arm, his hand falling moments later.

Backing a few steps away from him, you finally lowered your knife. “Glad you’re finally listening to me.”

“Maybe if you hadn’t been such a tease, I wouldn’t have been led on!” The guy spat at you, looking furious.

For that insult, Dean swung back, punching the guy straight in the jaw, knocking him backward onto his ass. The people around the three of you gasped or reacted in a similar manner.

“Hey! Get out of my bar!” The lady behind the bar shouted at the pair of you. “I won’t have any fighting!”

“No fighting? Just attempted sexual assault?” Dean spat at her and you grabbed his arm.

“Dean, come on.”

Everyone was staring at the pair of you now. The guy on the ground was getting up, looking like he was ready to fight.

“This place is a junkyard anyway,” Dean finally snapped before you were able to push him away and out of the door, away from prying eyes.

When the two of you were outside, you spun on him and said, “'Hitting that’? Are you for real, Dean?”

He shrugged and stated, “Had to get the bastard’s attention somehow. I knew you were carrying your knife.”

“You could have been less crude. And less punch now, talk later. I wanted another drink.”

“I know you can take care of yourself, Y/N. I just needed to settle my score.”

“To prove you’re not a Ken doll?”

Dean shot you an annoyed look and retorted, “Do you need to prove you’re not a Barbie doll?”

He had a point. Sighing mockingly, you replied, “I’ve already done that. You know, the whole knife to the throat thing?”

Dean grinned in response and he threw his arm around your shoulder. “Well, we both have a score to settle then. I guess we are Barbie and Ken. Just not the traditional ones.”


End file.
